Only When Sightings Can Amaze
by Illisandria Carthain
Summary: I just moved to America and here I was with the least likely person a straight-and-narrow kinda guy like me would be with: a male prostitute. AU Human!Perry Younger!Doofenshmirtz Perryshmirtz
1. Chapter 1

(A/N: The ONLY reason i am posting this is to get a gauge on if it's liked or not. That will determine whether or not I finish it or take it off FF. However! Be warned that this fic contains sex and mentions of sex. It's about a flipping manwhore. That is all.)

I was walking down the streets of New York in awe, looking left and right at the bright signs that were getting brighter now that night was falling. Right next to the Slushyburger/Slushydog combination building and an expensive-looking, elaborate mini-golf course were two young men wearing brown trenchcoats and brown fedoras tilted at an angle. They looked a lot like the gumshoes from the film-noire movies I watched back home. I was intrigued by their outfits and attitude that I found myself walking towards them, almost in a daze.

"What do you want?" The taller of the two, a young man of about twenty-five (and not to toot my own horn but I DID work at a carnival as an age/weight guessed so my guesses are usually spot-on) with dyed-teal hair and dark skin.

"Yeah," chorused the smaller of the two, a seventeen-year-old Asian with bleached-white hair and a large amount of eyeliner around his eyes, "What d'you want?"

"Um...well...hrm..." I couldn't believe I was having trouble coming up with an excuse, excuses were my forte. "You remind me of PIs from those film noire movies." That's the best you could come up with? What's wrong with you Heinz?

The teal-haired man snorted, "Sure we do. And that is why you came over here to talk to us. Look, if you want our services, then just pay up and we will come over and work immediately."

Work? What kind of work would two men be doing at night time? Maybe some moving work? "Well I don't exactly know your names and it would be improper of me to hire you if I didn't know your name."

The man shared a look with the boy then he finally spoke up and said, "My name is Perry. Perry the Platypus. My friend here is Peter the Panda, from Seattle."

Peter nodded and grinned crookedly at me, "Yup. Peter the Panda, that's me. Born in China, ya dig?"

"Am I to assume that Perry the Platypus is from Australia?" I shot a crooked smirk at Perry the Platypus who snorted and looked down. "You don't have an accent, neither of you do."

"Well that is because we grew up in our respective assigned places, me in New York and Peter in Seattle. Therefore the only accent we carry is from our assigned stations, much unlike you and your heavy Germanic accent. Where are you from?" Perry the Platypus tilted his head at me and I frowned.

"Why should it matter? I am who I am and not my country or place of origin. Nor am I my parents." I crossed my arms and glared down, suddenly finding interest in a long and crooked crack on the ground.

I heard a soft thump and a gasp as Peter the Panda hissed something in Perry the Platypus's ear. Perry the Platypus put on a stoic face followed by what appeared to be a genial smile. He failed in that respect.

"I am sorry to have offended you. Now you do understand that our services are not cheap, correct?" Perry the Platypus gave me a half-lidded glance and smiled. Then he leaned in and whispered the amount in my ear.

"Holy strudel that's a lot of zeroes!" Suddenly I was very glad that money from my hometown was worth a lot of American dollars. And that my _vater _had worked me to the bone when I was little so I had no problem doing all sorts of demeaning work so long as it payed me at all.

"We are worth it. Plus that gets you one of us for a whole night, sundown to sunup." Perry the Platypus grinned and suddenly I understood that I needed to have him for the night, even if it was just to talk to. He reminded me so much of myself that I just HAD to interact with him.

"I'll take you," I pointed to Perry the Platypus and he smirked down at Peter the Panda.

"Score one for me, buddy," Perry the Platypus quipped.

"Oi! S'not fair!" Peter the Panda wailed, "Why do they always choose you?"

"They like Sebastian over Shota." I had no idea what they were talking about but I was intregued. After I forked over the cash, I lead Perry the Platypus to my penthouse apartment that was close enough to the harbour to make for a nice view but far enough away to keep away seagulls.

"Here it is!" I gestured to the large-ish (and rather cluttered) apartment with a sense of pride, this was MY HOME and I love it, cluttered or not. "As you can see, Perry the Platypus, this place is rather messy. I was hoping that you would-" I was interrupted by Perry the Platypus tackling ms and throwing be to my couch with a grunt. He began to pull my clothes off, pants first, and grinned as I struggled.

"First time, eh? Well I will make sure to go easy on you."

I slapped his face and squirmed backwards, pulling up my falling pants, a blush growing on my face. "What were you DOING?"

"What you bought me to do," Perry the Platypus shrugged nonchalantly, his bare shoulders flexing with lean muscles—seeing as he had already taken his shirt off and his pants were unbuttoned, his trenchoat sling halfway across the room—"Sex."

I was aghast, "Kgdlisifxig-SEX? Did I hear you correctly? You're a-you're a—oh _dansen_...what's the word?—a PROSTITUTE?"

Perry the Platypus shot another look in my direction and sighed, slapping his face with his palm in frustration, "What did you THINK Peter and I were doing all alone, standing near a seedy New York alley? Offering to work part-time?"

A flush shot across my cheeks; that was EXACTLY what I thought they were doing. At least, that's how I got jobs back in my hometown.

Perry the Platypus laughed, a short bark followed by a snort of derision, "You did? Oh wow you are far from home are you not!" My face turned an even more spectacular shade of red and I'm pretty sure I was pouting. Perry the Platypus frowned, "Aww...I did not mean to make you mad, I am simply amused at your refreshing look on the world. It is so naïve."

"So what if I'm naïve? I am me and that's all that matters! No one here can tell me how to live my life and I like it that way! Besides...," I added indignantly, "my English isn't all that good anyways..."

Perry the Platypus smiled at me and buttoned his pants; he gently cupped my head in his hand and brought my eyes to meet his. "Look," he said calmly, "I did not mean to offend you. If I did I am sorry but - you bought a prostitute and are not going to use me for my intended purpose. I was already paid but I would feel bad stiffing someone as nice as you. The least I could do, since you do not want me for sex, is to fulfil your wishes. And I can cook!"

I perked up slightly because all I could cook were some family recipes and food from my hometown; if he could cook English dishes, that would make my day-er-night. "English dishes?"

Perry the Platypus laughed gently and smiled back at me, standing up and looking back down at me, "Not so much English as American. But, that is okay, yes?"

I nodded and stood up, offering him my hand, "Yes, that's fine. My name is Heinz, by the way. Heinz Doofenshmirtz."

"Perry, as you already know. Perry the Platypus." Perry the Platypus grinned and shook my hand. "Now what is it you needed doing again?"

"Ah yes, I needed help moving in."

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

(A/N: Before I begin this chapter I have to thank all the people that reviewed OWSCA. You made me wanna continue this instead of dropping it off and forgetting about it and/or deleting it off of FF. Also, a bit of a warning - I messed with all of the characters' ages so don't be surprised if you come across someone and you are all "Huh?" it IS an AU after all. I can do as I please with everyone in the PnF fandom. So now I present the second chapter of OWSCA!)

Perry the Platypus was amazing! He was lifting boxes and objects I couldn't even begin to dream of picking up! And the way his muscles flexed as he did so—he still had his shirt off, you see—and I was-AUCH! Why was I thinking like that? I have no idea what I was thinking! Shaking my head to clear the treacherous thoughts out of my head I caught the attention of Perry the Platypus. He smiled and walked over to me, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"What are you doing?" I flinched and looked away. Perry the Platypus snorted and walked off again, mumbling something about "Stupid men and their stupid indecisiveness..." and "simp..."

"Simp?" I wondered aloud, "What is a simp?"

Perry the Platypus walked over to me and sat down, sighing softly. "Simp is a phrase Peter and I made up when we saw that officer in the park twitching and writhing. She was screaming 'there are squirrels in my pants!' so we just combined the first letters of the phrase to get T.A.S.I.M.P. which we shortened into S.I.M.P. which we smashed together phonetically to form the phrase simp. It means that there is something bothering you and you cannot figure it out."

"So you think something's bothering me?" I looked into his eyes and my heart beat faster for a moment. Was I ill?

"I can tell. Years of working for the O.W.S.C.A. has made me super-sensitive to people's emotions. You are uncertain and confused about something." He gazed back at me, unwavering and steadfast. Then he smiled and stood up, "Okay. Time to make some food. What sounds good to you?"

"Well I don't have much in my pantry nor my fridge but whatever you can make is good." I shifted my weigh and crossed my legs, wincing slightly at the remembrance of the way Perry the Platypus was staring at me as he undid my zipper. It brought back memories better left buried.

Perry the Platypus poked his head out of my kitchen area and held up a box of insta-rice, "Gumbo! I can make gumbo but it will have to be spicy, you do not mind, do you?"

Spicy? Food back home was so bland we may have well been calling it cardboard. "Spicy is good!"

"Okay! Food will be done in about twenty minutes and then we have half an hour to spend eating until sunrise!"

Oh yeah...he has to leave at sunrise because that's as much of his time as I had bought. "Okay! I can wait!" Plus that gives me some time to mull over my feelings. I sat back and began to list what was worrying me: the fact that I wanted to be around Perry the Platypus all the time even after only JUST meeting him, the way I blushed around him, the way he almost raped me, rape, Charlene, college, home, my parents, Roger, how much I hate Roger, hate, love, what is love anyways? Is it that feeling I get sometimes when I see something hurting and I want to take it home and care for it or is it what Perry the Platypus does to get money? Is it the intimate feelings two lovers share when they kiss or the hard, animalistic feelings that well up inside of people that causes them to force themselves upon other people? And of love is one of those two feelings, then why have I not experienced it yet?

I heard a soft mumbling in the background that slowly became clearer as time passed, "...shm...oo...tz...Doofe...shmirtz...Doofenshmirtz...Doofenshmirtz! Hey! Doofenshmirtz! The food is ready!"

I blinked, suddenly inhaling deeply as a delicious smell wafted into my nostrils. "Huh? Oh, you have the food! Thank you, Perry the Platypus."

"No problem." Perry took a bite of the food he made and smiled, inhaling through his nose in appreciation. "So...do you like it?"

I stared at the dish in my hands, noticing it for the first time. It was a soupy substance made with rice and tomatoes—canned of course—as well as some sort of sausage or maybe it was tofu. Either way it was extremely amazing looking. I took a bite and melted a bit inside; the gumbo was so spicy and yet sweet from the tomatoes and well seasoned with whatever spices I had in my kitchen. I loved it. "Like it? There is no word in my limited English vocabulary to describe how amazing this is! Is all American food like this?"

Perry the Platypus laughed and shook his head, "No. This literally is whatever the hell you have in your kitchen thrown in a pot with rice. If you want something REALLY nice, I will leave you a list and make you a GOOD meal next time I-" he paused, suddenly realising that, in order to see me again, I would have to fork over even more cash. The mood suddenly changed from calm and relaxed to tense and sad. Angst filled the room; it was almost palpable.

"I-I could-"

"No. You do not have to."

"I WANT to!"

"You-what?" Perry the Platypus looked at me aghast. "You WANT to?"

"Yeah...I-I want to. I like seeing you. I like your food. I like you...r company. You're the first REAL, HUMAN friend I've had in...well EVER!" I was flushing, I was sure of it now, the heat was spreading across my face and I wasn't ashamed this time. I was flustered! I had every right to be flustered! He was talking about leaving me just when he had found me! Unfair...UNFAIR! "You can't just leave me...not now when I have no one...'cept you Perry the Platypus..."

Perry the Platypus smiled and blushed a bit as well. "You DO know you can call me Perry, right? Perry the Platypus is my stage name...Heinz."

He called me by my name! My GIVEN name! I was about to melt into a puddle of goo-BAD HEINZ! BAD! You are HETEROsexual if there is any sex at all! Not homosexual (although, back in my hometown gays and lesbians were generally more accepted) no no no no no. H e t e r o. "Okay...Perry."

He smiled back at me and I grinned. "So. Shall I see you tonight?"

"Y-yeah...tonight." I looked outside for a quick time-check and saw the sun peeking over the horizon. "Well...I guess I'll see you then. ...bye Perry!" And there he goes...

I stared at the door for a long time after Perry left and just longed for his company again. Then again, I only had SO MUCH money. I have to get a job if I want to see Petry again.

Jobs. OH HOW I HATE job searching. Back in my hometown all I had to do was stand on a street corner or in an alley and someone would offer me a job. Now HERE, HERE it would be assumed thy I was a prostitute and I would be paid to have sex with someone I didn't know. I dot like sex as it is but doing it with someone I didn't know would be absolutely horrifying. So I had to do things the old-fashioned way—want ads. Thankfully there is this neat thing called the Internet and it allows people like me to find jobs via keywords. And I have a few keywords to implement.

I walked my scrawny butt over to the library and sat down at one of the (few) open computer stations—this is, of course, after I got a library card (because apparently though the internet and computer usage is free, you HAVE to have a library card...capitalist pigs). There I ran a few of my best traits through the computer search engine and found...zilch. So I ran one last search: "Inventor+job+openings".

Lucky me! There was only one item to pick from but it was perfect. "PnF Inc. searching for inventors to help with amazing and fun ideas to benifit mankind. Apply now via any way you want! -Phineas Flynn and Ferb Fletcher, co-creators of PnF Inc." Inventions! I can do inventions. In fact, if I say so myself, I am one of the best inventors in the world. Unfortunately (some people say) I have this odd habit of adding -inator to the end of my invention's overly obvious names. But I highly doubt that that would affect my résumé.

I ran a quick résumé up and I sent it to PnF Inc. Then K walked out of the library, "Well'p...it's time for ms to go and buy an actual computer for myself. Perhaps a laptop so that I can go to one of those fancy 'Internet cafés' I've heard so much about."

"Yeah, and perhaps you can stop talkin' t'yourself y'whackjob...," a random passerby commented. I shot a snide look at said passerby and snorted.

"Ignorant American..."

"Excuse me?" The selfsame passerby spun around and grabbed me by the shoulder, turning me to face him. He was a stocky young man of about twenty-five with black hair and an underbite, one tooth protruding from his bottom lip. He snorted like a bull and glared, "Say that t'my face this time, RUBE!"

I sputtered, attempting to think up some sort of witty banter to counteract this man's...jerkyness. "Yeah...well you don't be such a jerk to people you've just met...dude!" Yup. Smart, Heinz...real smart. You sound like such a yokel.

"Buford von Stromm! Back away from the innocent German man!" A loud female voice called over a bullhorn.

"Uh-I'm not German!" I shouted back.

"WHATEVER!"

"Uh...heh...I-I'm gone." The man, Buford, let go of me and dashed off, shouting "You'll never catch me alive copper!" at the top of his lungs.

I watched in amusement as a lone police chopper took off after Buford, the driver shouting "I'm gonna' bust you Buford! This I swear!"

"Odd place I'm living in, huh?" I murmured to myself.

"Yes, yes it is." I glanced over my right shoulder, were the voice came from and saw a shock of orange hair and a pointy nose. Starting, I took a step back and bumped into someone else, a taller man with bright green hair and a square nose. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you freak out. We're just here about your application to PnF Inc. I'm Phineas and this is my brother Ferb," Phineas pointed to the taller man behind me, who smiled and wiggled his fingers into greeting, "He doesn't talk much."

"Waitwaitwait! You mean PnF Inc. is run by twenty-five year olds?" I was shocked.

"Actually, I'm twenty-six." Ferb spoke up, his voice tinged with a British accent.

"Whatever! So, did I get in? I don't mean to be ungracious but I really need this job..."

"Yes, you got in," Phineas smiled at me and for a second I was unable to speak.

When I finally found my voice, it was all I fould do to keep from crying "I did?"

"Yeah. Your résumé was exactly what we were looking for. How are you still unemployed?"

"Poor luck and just moving to America," I shrugged and smiled, "So when do I start?"

"Anytime you like! At PnF Inc., there is no such thing as 'workplace' nor is there such a thing as 'shifts', 'being late', 'being wrong', or even 'pay docks'. We pay you when you need the money, you can work anywhere you like, and you don't have to call me or Ferb 'boss'. We're all equal here."

"Really?" I asked.

"Actually, the only one who really calls us 'boss' is Baljeet." Ferb commented.

I paused in thought, "...cool. I like you guys."

"And we like you." Phineas smiled at me, "So do we call you Dr. Doofenshmirtz?"

"Just call ms Heinz. Or Doof. Or D if you wish. Whatever works," I shrugged. I absolutely hate when people refer to me as 'Doctor Doofenshmirtz'. It reminds me of things best left forgotten.

"Alright D! So when will we see you?" Phineas offered me his hand to shake, as did Ferb.

I grasped both of their hands and shook vigourously, "I'll email you guys some of my blueprints today, as soon as I get a computer."

Ferb poked me in the shoulder and I turned to face him handing me a small laptop, black and silver with a crosshatch design on it. "For you," he said, "Latest edition. Plus it's company-issued."

"And free!" Phineas commented chipperly from behind me.

I took the computer and hugged it to my chest, suddenly feeling vey overwhelmed. "Th-thank you...you're both so kind..."

"No problem!" Phineas grabbed ahold of his brother and started walking off, laughing as he did so. "See ya later D!"

"Yes...see you later!" I hugged the computer to my chest and ran the rest of the way home. Life was looking good.


	3. Chapter 3

I finally managed to scan the last of my -inator blueprints onto the computer that Ferb gave me. It took me, what? Four hours? I looked over at the clock and grimaced, _better make it seven. It's almost six and the sun sets here when again? Eight? It's the middle of autumn so the nights are relatively long-ish. Well, with the money I saved on that computer due to Ferb being SUCH an amazing boss, I could afford to buy Perry for another night. But I need to collect my paycheck for these -inators ASAP—meaning within the next twelve hours. I have to go buy some food so Perry could cook for me. And maybe I could spruce up an old Doofenshmirtz family recipe for him to enjoy; all it would need is ten or twenty kilos of spices to make up for the lack of flavour._ "Heh, kilos of spices. You don't even know what spices taste like, let alone what spices would make a bland dish from my hometown taste anything like the gumbo you had last night. _Dummkopf_!" I smacked myself on the forehead and groaned as it incited my now-screaming headache. As I rubbed my temples I thought of something, I had enough money to buy Perry for tonight AND buy some food from the local farmers' market! The food there sounded like it would be fresh AND cheap...er than fresh ingredients bought from a New York supermarket. Plus they would be better-looking as well as better-tasting. I should know, my family friends used to run a farm and their food looked WAY better than the junk they were offering up at the Shop-N-Save that was across from the Googolplex Mall.

Anyways, I sat aside the computer and stood up, wincing as a series of "pop"s and "crack"s cycled through my back, leaving me with a cross between a relieved feeling and pain. (You know the feeling I'm talking about. Yeah, that one.) Then I grabbed my keys (and by keys I mean the key to my apartment and the tag that had my bicycle lock combination on it in a scrambled version of Klingon—Yeah, I'm that kind of nerd—and the key to my firesafe box that I kept all my important documents in—y'know...passport, social security card, birth certificate, US-certified birth certificate, green-card, etc;) and headed out to the farmers' market. There was supposed to be the best of berry crops from New Jersey there plus they were hauling in some fish. And a few Pennsylvanian mushrooms never hurt anyone. I had a question for myself though, "How on Earth are you supposed to cart back food from the farmers' market with a bicycle Heinz? Do you expect to build a Dehydrator-inator in a few minutes and then use it to dehydrate the produce and fresh fish and then take them to your apartment HALFWAY ACROSS THE NEW YORK METROPOLITAN AREA? Really Heinz, real smart..."

"Y're still talkin' t'yourself!" I looked towards the sound and found myself outside and face-to-face with Buford Van Stomm[1]. AGAIN.

"Auch-! You again? Didn't that crazy police woman chase you off?"

"Nuthin' and nobody—I mean NOBODY—can stop Buford from doin' what Buford wants t'do." With that, Buford crossed his arms and smirked.

"Look," I sighed exasperatedly, "We got off on the wrong phrase yesterday. Let me introduce myself; my name is Heinz Doofenshmirtz. I work at PnF Inc. as an inventor."

Buford's eyes widened and he broke into a broad grin, "Well-! Y'didn't tell me y'worked for Dinner-bell and Silent Bob! That makes things a whole ton different!" He stuck out a meaty mitt, "Name's Buford Van Stomm. I work as official 'heavy lifter of things that're heavy and tester of all fun inventions' at PnF Inc. We'll be coworkers!"

I tentatively took his hand and shook it, "What do you mean? I invent and you lift things and test said inventions. How would we be coworkers in anyway except for the fact that we work for the same bosses?"

"Everyone tests stuff. That's half th'fun of inventin' and bein' part of PnF Inc."

"Oh...," there was an awkward pause and then my eyes caught on the chrome finish of a restored and modified (some of it not looking all-too-legal) Chevy '68 front bumper. I pointed to the (lovely) car, "This one yours?"

Buford beamed proudly, "Yeah, she's my baby. Her name's Canford 2."

"Could you...perchance...give me a ride to the farmers' market? I know that this is an odd request from someone you just met but my bike just won't do."

"Yeah, sure. I see no reason not t'. I mean, I was headin' that way anyways so sure!"

I pocketed my keys and got into his car. Then I buckled up and prayed to our Lord God, His Son Jesus, and the Holy Spirit that I would make it out of this alive. (Because the Lord knows that death isn't exactly on my to-do list. But, hey! If He wants me up there now then who am I to argue?) I soon realized that my prayers were the right thing to do as Buford revved the engine and then floored the accelerator.

"D-don't you think you're going a bit too fast?" I shouted over the screaming emanating from the radio.

"There's no such thing as 'too fast'!" Was Buford's reply, "'Sides, I gotta pick up one more person on the way t'the market."

Who on Earth would WANT to ride with this lunatic if they KNEW how he drove? "What's his name?"

"Baljeet! He works with us at PnF Inc.!"

Baljeet...the guy who calls Phiness and Ferb "Boss"? Why would he be picking up Baljeet? I shut my trap for the duration of the ride, right to the point where Buford came screeching to a halt. I screamed like a girl then.

Buford grinned as a tall Indian (from India) man (same age as Buford, Phineas, and Ferb) slid into the passenger seat. "What was that screaming I heard? Have you suckered some other poor soul into riding with you?"

Buford laughed almost maliciously, "Nah. He's one of Dinner-bell's new inventors. He needed a ride t'the market."

"He? I could have sworn that it was a girl from the screaming."

I blushed furiously, "Have you even payed attention to his driving? The moments when he slams on the brakes are the scariest things I've ever been with witness to."

Baljeet grinned as he faced me, "Ah, so you are the one Boss was talking about. The -inator guy! My name is Baljeet Parai[2], but my friends call me Jeet. Pleased to make your acquaintance...?"

Realizing I was being prompted, I spoke up, "Heinz Doofenshmirtz. Phineas and Ferb call me D, so you can too."

Baljeet waved his hand and scoffed, "No, no, no...I will simply call you Heinz, as is customary between coworkers."

"Then I'll call you Baljeet since I'm not quite on the 'friend' level with you yet. I hope that we can reach this level soon."

"Me as well." Baljeet smiled back at me. I hadn't even realized I was smiling. Odd...

"Well, off t'the market, yeah!" Buford raised his fist in the air and pumped it once. Then he revved the car up again and sped off.

When we finally reached the market I was so relieved. I was seconds away from soiling myself. I shakily got out of the car and nodded to Buford, "Do you think that you could keep here for a half hour while I get my food?"

"Yeah. I could stay here for a bit. Not like I got anythin' better t'do." Buford shrugged.

"Lies!" Baljeet shrieked, "You and I have to go to the science convention in New York City! There is supposed to be one of Ferb's inventions there! I wanted to watch the supposed 'greatest minds of America' try to puzzle out the physics and mechanics of it! You PROMISED!"

Buford snorted, "I was kiddin' y'derp. I didn't forget, just yankin' your leg!"

Baljeet visibly relaxed and then growled, "Do not do that! I am very high-strung at the moment and am sensitive to jokes like this."

I smiled, were they always like this? And if so, are they a couple? They seem very comfortable together. I hope Perry and I can be like them.

I didn't even notice when a half hour passed but I walked out of the market with a huge bag full of food and some cash left in my pockets. I climbed back into Canford 2 and gave Buford the thumbs up, "Alright! I'm done now. Would you take me home?"

"Yes, please take him home so that you can fulfill your promise to me." Baljeet put away the astrophysics book he was reading and rolled up his window, "Buford? Buford!"

Buford, who had been asleep and snoring slightly, jolted awake groggily and snarled at Baljeet, "The hell Jeet? I was sleepin' y'know!"

"It is time for us to take Heinz back to his apartment. We must go now."

"Fine, I'll start the car and take Aryan home."

Buford started the engine but even it wasn't loud enough to drown out my protest, "First off, I AM NOT GERMAN! My country speaks a Germanic dialect, but I am not from Germany! Second, the term Aryan is HIGHLY offensive! I am not, nor do I want to be, part of the Aryan race. And third, you better take that back you chirfugging[3] scum-sucker!" Yes, one of those oaths I had made up on my own but my limited English and tendency not to swear at all made for an interesting conversation normally.

Buford blinked and then, almost a minute later, broke into a wild grin. "Wow! I never took y't'be the kinda' person t'break int'swears but 'parrently I'm wrong. What does 'chirfugging' mean anyways?"

I lowered my eyes to the floor and mumbled out, "I made it up. It doesnt mean anything anyways."

"What?" Baljeet asked, a faux innocent curve of his mouth made me realize he heard me perfectly, he just wanted me to admit it again.

"I said: It's made up and has no meaning..." I said, a smidgen louder this time.

"Huh?" This time it was Buford with the sly look on his face. He just wanted me to admit it too...curses.

"I SAID: I MADE IT UP SO IT DOESN'T HAVE A MEANING YET!" I shouted so loud that Baljeet jumped slightly and looked back frowning.

"Oh...well I'm adoptin' it. I like the sound of chirfuggin' 'cause it reminds me of some other words I like alot."

Baljeet rolled his eyes and muttered, just loud enough for ms to hear, "Yes. Four letters and rhymes with 'truck'." Upon seeing the blank look that adorned my face he backtracked and stammered out a quick, "Nevemind."

We finally reached my apartment (all in one piece, I might add) and I stood up, I turned back to face Buford and Baljeet. "Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it."

"It is no problem, Butord is always willing to give you a ride. Just call him up." Baljeet nodded and jerked his thumb towards Buford.

"I don't have a cell. I have a home phone if you want to exchange numbers." I shrugged t the awkward look Burlford gave me, "My number's 415-1506. You should know the area code, right?"

Buford nodded, "Mine's 192-0151."

"161-1819 belongs to me." I mentally stored the numbers away and nodded, waving at them.

"See you later, I suppose!"

"Goodbye!"

"See ya'!" Then Canford 2 sped away, the engine roaring and the echoing scream of Baljeet receding with time.

I walked into the building and rode the elevator up to the penthouse—my apartment. Then I opened up my fridge and began to put my spoils away. The clock in the corner—a cuckoo clock from my hometown—chimed eight and I hurried up whay I was doing and dashed out of there for where Perry was. It was nighttime and I didn't want to waste a single moment of moonlight. I was going to carpe noctum. And not let go until I died.

**[1] Buford Van Stomm: Yeah, I know I spelled his name wrong the first time. I'm correcting it.**

**[2] Baljeet Parai: a combination of Baljeet's supposed last name (Patel) and what "Swampy" was going to make his last name (Rai)**

**[3] chirfugging: this is not my word. I took this from "Fly By Night" and "Fly Trap". I like it. Spread the word. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

(A/N: Dear Lord it has been QUITE a while since I got anything like this done. I was beginning to give up on this when inspiration hit…more or less **(really I just said "Sandria, getchur ass to that computer and write dammit!" but…potato/tomato)**. So here is the next chapter of OWSCA! And ignore any changes I've made to the characters. They _are_ AU after all…)

I walked down to the corner where I last saw Perry and Peter and stood there…and stood there…and stood there…and stood there. "Where are they?" I stamped my foot inf frustration and hissed, it was cold and here I was just sitting around in the dark and the cold waiting for someone who I didn't even know too well!

"¡_Oyé_! Don't stomp jour foot like dat, _arbol_, or jou'll just cause jourself _mucho_ pain." I looked up in surprise to see a tall woman in a trench-coat and hat just like Perry and Peter. She had dark skin that was wrinkled around the eyes and mouth and her hair, grey-tinged-pink from one-too-many dye jobs, fell in her brown eyes. She had a cigarillo in a long holder between two of her bony fingers, drawing it to her lips to take a short drag.

"Wh-who are you," I inquired suspiciously, "You…you aren't Perry. Nor are you Peter. Where are they? You wear the same outfits as them. Do you work for the OWSCA?"

"_Sí_, I do. I am in de same line of work as _el ornitorrinco y el oso panda_," when I gave her a blank look-real languages have never been my strong point-she rephrased her statement, "I do work for de OWSCA. Jou are looking for Perry, ¿_sí_?"

"Um…," I didn't know how to answer that so I went with my gut instinct, "Yes?"

The woman laughed heartily, a deep belly-laugh that ended in a fit of coughing and another drag from her cigarillo, "Jou really are _tonto_, aren't jou? He said jou were silly but…dis is beyond silly. Dis is purely naïve."

I bristled immediately, "I am NOT naïve! I am NEW here and DO NOT appreciate being called naïve every time I do something that doesn't fit with your ideas of "right" and "proper", and I would appreciate it if you were a little chirfugging nicer to me! ALL OF YOU!" Then something occurred to me in the midst of my little fit, "And who ARE you? You never told me your name-stage or otherwise."

"_Ah…ahora él me pide mi nombre…_," the woman chuckled and took another drag. Exhaling the smoke, she grinned and pulled her hat off in a mock bow, "_Jo soy Pinky, la Chihuahua._"

_Pinky the Chihuahua? _I stared at the agent of OWSCA that stood before me and frowned, thinking. _She looks a bit old for this line of work…she must have had kids at one point or another…and where are they now? Where is she from? Where is Perry? Why is she here in his spot? Did something bad happen to Perry? And I just got some food for us to share as a meal and everything! Do I call the cops? What would I tell them, "Oh, hello policeman-slash-woman, I have a friend who is a prostitute and he didn't show up to meet me where he was the day before. No, I was not going to have sex with him. Yes, I do have a lot of money on me. I only met him once but I think he's a really good person. No, I'm sure I'm not insane…no please don't arrest me! I didn't know purchasing a prostitute was illegal! We didn't even DO anything!"_

"Jou are muy _extraño_…jou ask _por mi nombre y_ not do anything with it? Jou want to know where Perry got off to?" Pinky blew a smoke ring in my face, disrupting my train of thought.

"Huh?" I snapped back to reality just in time to catch what she said and nod quickly, "Yeah. I would like to know where he went. I'm…we had plans…," blushing, I added, "but not THOSE kind of plans."

"_Sí, sí, sí, jo sé_. He explained jour "relationship" to me dis morning.. Jou two are cute. No _fornicacíon y_ he still gets paid. _Está bien_. Great set-up."

I felt a burning feeling of shame as my face flushed, _he told her? Does he go around telling everyone of the rube who didn't want the sex he paid for?_

"_¡Oyé!_ Calm down! He didn't tell anyone but me. I'm one of his _amigos, claro_?" Pinky tucked her cigarillo holder in between her teeth and put one hand on me. "Don't worry…don't worry…he's a good kid, Perry is. Jou don't need to worry about him blabbing about jour meetings to anyone but me _y_ Peter."

"He…," I choked back a couple of tears and sniffled, thoroughly embarrassed to wear my heart on my sleeve like that, "Where is he? He was supposed to…meet me here. I had…we were supposed to…I went and bought food and got a job and everything…" Sniffling some more, I rubbed my face and looked up at Pinky. "You…you're shaking."

She was; where her hand was touching me I could feel her entire body vibrating. She drew away quickly and took another deep drag of her cigarillo. "_No te preocupas por mí. Jo soy don nadie, no vale la pena tu tiempo. Sin valor…jo soló soy inútil…_" She looked at the ground and wrapped her arms around her shuddering frame. "He's at a different corner dis time. He's not always gonna be at dis corner _y_ I'm not gonna be de one to tell jou where he is. Jou best find another thing to keep you busy." And with that, Pinky scuttled off, her trench-coat blowing in the wind, suddenly illuminating her thin frame. I felt immensely sorry for her.

As I walked back home, I thought about the way Pinky had muttered to herself in Spanish. _She looked so lost and so sick. Why did she run away? And where is Perry? Where IS Perry?...And what am I to do now?..._

**TBC**

(A/N: Yeah, I know…two Author's Notes in one story! It's a chirfugging miracle! I just wanted to take the time to let all of you reviewers know that I love you guys! Thanks for making me want to continue to write this! Sorry it took me so long and sorry this is garbage filler but Pinky has her purpose, kay? Trust me. I'm not abandoning this just yet-if EVER. Have a nice day :3 )


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